


Bechloe Week 2019 - Day 8 - Softball - The Bet

by Another Bechloe Shipper (AmyP91402)



Series: Bechloe Week 2019 [8]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bechloe Week, Bechloe Week 2019, F/F, Softball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 20:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyP91402/pseuds/Another%20Bechloe%20Shipper
Summary: Stacie's softball team needs a sub. Beca doesn't want to play, so Stacie makes a bet with her. Two-shot. Bechloe Week 2019 - Day 8 - Softball





	1. Chapter 1

"No," said Beca, as she sat at the bar with her best friend.

"Beca, come on! Aubrey's out this week. We need a woman to play or we have to forfeit!" exclaimed Stacie.

"No," Beca said. "I'm the least athletic person on the planet. Why would you want me to fill in?"

"Because I've asked everyone else."

"I'm not doing it."

Stacie's face broke out into a sly grin. "How about I make a bet with you? If you win, I will never bother you about anything athletic ever again, and I'll pay your bar tab. If you lose, you have to sub in, not only this week, but every time my team needs a sub this season."

Beca couldn't resist a bet, and both she and Stacie knew it. "What's the bet?"

"I bet I can find a song where you don't know the lyrics."

"Impossible. You're on!"

"Great," said Stacie. She walked over and told the person in charge of the karaoke machine what she was going to do.

"Hey guys," said the man in charge of the karaoke machine. "We're going to take a little break from the list of performers here. It seems two of our regulars have a bet going. If Stacie can find a song where her friend Beca doesn't know the lyrics, she wins! I'll give you five songs. Stacie is going to turn the monitor away from you so you can't cheat."

Beca took the microphone. "I hope you're ready to pay for my drinks, Stacie."

"I hope you have a softball glove."

A nineties type of beat began, and Beca was relieved to have a few bars before the lyrics began. She rolled her eyes before singing:

_I, I got a new life, you would hardly recognize me, I'm so glad_  
_How can a person like me care for you?_  
_I, why do I bother, when you're not the one for me?_  
_Oo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo_  
_Is enough enough?_

_I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign_  
_Life is demanding without understanding_  
_I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign_  
_No one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong_  
_But where do you belong?_

"One," said the DJ.

Stacie adopted a sly grin and picked another song.

This one only gave a few beats before the lyrics began. Beca knew it right away.

_You know what_  
_I like the playettes_  
_No diggity, no doubt_  
_Play on playette, play on playette_  
_Yo dre, drop the verse_

_It's going down, fade to Blackstreet_  
_The homies got RB, collab' creations_  
_Bump like acne, no doubt_  
_I put it down, never slouch_  
_As long as my credit can vouch_  
_A dog couldn't catch me ass out_  
_Tell me who can stop when Dre makin' moves_  
_Attracting honeys like a magnet_  
_Giving 'em eargasms with my mellow accent_  
_Still moving this flavor_  
_With the homies Blackstreet and Teddy_  
_The original rump shakers_

"Damn, Mitchell," said Stacie. "That was hot."

"Two," said the DJ. "Better up your game."

A country twang began. Beca smiled and sang:

_Country music singers_  
_Have always been a real close family,_  
_But lately some of my kinfolks_  
_Have disowned a few others and me_  
_I guess it's because_  
_I kind of changed my direction_  
_Lord I guess I went and broke their family tradition_

"So you know country?" asked Stacie. Beca smirked.

"Three."

Stacie thought maybe picking an obscure country song might stump her friend.

Beca smirked again when she heard the opening of this one.

_Well I was drivin' down I-95 the other night._  
_Somebody nearly cut me right off the road._  
_I decided it wasn't gonna do any good to get mad._  
_So I wrote a song about him instead._  
_It goes like this..._

_Were you born an asshole?_  
_Or did you work at it your whole life?_  
_Either way it worked out fine_  
_'cause you're an asshole tonight._

Stacie banged on the catalog in frustration. She _really_ didn't want her team to forfeit their game, and Beca was being _so_ smug.

"Okay, Mitchell," said Stacie. "You'll never get this one."

The lyrics started after one strum of the guitar.

Beca looked completely confused. "Hey! I didn't even have time to think about this one, and I bet you don't know all the words either."

"Fine," said Stacie. "Start the song over. If _I_ get any of the words wrong, I'll give you the win."

Beca handed Stacie the microphone and they switched places.

_Well, it was all_  
_That I could do to keep from crying'_  
_Sometimes it seemed so useless to remain_  
_But you don't have to call me darlin', darlin'_  
_You never even called me by my name_

_You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings_  
_And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride_  
_And you don't have to call me Merle Haggard anymore_  
_Even though you're on my fighting' side_

_And I'll hang around as long as you will let me_  
_And I never minded standing' in the rain_  
_But you don't have to call me darlin', darlin'_  
_You never even called me by my name_

_Well, I've heard my name_  
_A few times in your phone book (hello, hello)_  
_And I've seen it on signs where I've played_  
_But the only time I know_  
_I'll hear "David Allan Coe"_  
_Is when Jesus has his final judgment day_

_So I'll hang around as long as you will let me_  
_And I never minded standing' in the rain_  
_But you don't have to call me darlin', darlin'_  
_You never even called me by my name_

_Well, a friend of mine named Steve Goodman wrote that song_  
_And he told me it was the perfect country & western song_  
_I wrote him back a letter and I told him it was not the perfect country & western song_  
_Because he hadn't said anything at all about mama_  
_Or trains, or trucks, or prison, or getting' drunk_  
_Well, he sat down and wrote another verse to the song and he sent it to me_  
_And after reading it I realized that my friend had written the perfect country & western song_  
_And I felt obliged to include it on this album_  
_The last verse goes like this here_

_Well, I was drunk the day my mom got out of prison_  
_And I went to pick her up in the rain_  
_But before I could get to the station in my pickup truck_  
_She got run over by a damned old train_

_And I'll hang around as long as you will let me_  
_And I never minded standing' in the rain, no_  
_But you don't have to call me darlin', darlin'_  
_You never even called me_  
_Well, I wonder why you don't call me_  
_Why don't you ever call me by my name_

Beca was doubled over laughing, especially at that last verse. "Okay, Stacie, it was worth losing the bet to hear you sing that song. Where the hell did you learn that?"

"My dad is a big country fan, and this song always made me laugh."


	2. Chapter 2

Beca sat on the bench. She was up next to bat. She knew her competitive streak would bite her in the ass. She never should have agreed to that stupid bet.

It was her turn, so she grabbed a bat and slowly walked to home plate. She turned to look at the pitcher and she felt time stop.

The pitcher had bright red hair sticking out from under her ball cap. She was dressed in a sports bra and leggings, showing off her toned abs. Beca completely missed the first pitch as she stood there, mesmerized.

"Strike!" called the umpire.

_Way to go, Mitchell,_ she thought.

The pitcher shot her a wink and threw again. Beca swung her bat and missed.

_At least I swung the bat this time,_ thought Beca. _She definitely caught me staring._

By some miracle, Beca hit the ball on the third pitch and took off running. "Foul!" yelled the umpire.

Beca set her teeth. At least she made contact with the ball. She vowed to hit it this time.

The pitcher threw the ball, and Beca hit it in the right direction this time. She ran toward first, but she was out as the first baseman easily caught the ball. She glanced over at the pitcher in time to see the woman shake her ass in celebration.

Beca walked back to the bench, certain this woman would be the death of her.

The rest of the game went fairly miserably for Beca. She swore she didn't have an athletic bone in her body. She struck out for the rest of her turns at bat. She was in right field, so the ball almost never went her direction, and she managed to catch it the one time it did. She was relieved she hadn't managed to fuck that up.

The team won the game anyway, and everyone headed to the bar near the softball field afterward. "Come on, Beca," said Stacie. "Losing team buys the winning team their first round of drinks."

"Nice," said Beca.

Beca took a seat at the bar next to Stacie. She was shocked when the redheaded pitcher from the other team walked up to her.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, gesturing to the empty barstool on the other side of Beca.

"No," said Beca.

The gorgeous pitcher, this time wearing a tee shirt over her sports bra, sat down and turned toward Beca. "Hi, I'm Chloe," she said, putting her hand out to shake.

"Beca."

"I don't think I've seen you before. Are you new?"

"I was a sub," said Beca. "I don't really even play softball. Or any sports."

"Then why did you sub?"

Beca put her face in her hands. "I lost a bet."

"What was the bet?"

"Song lyrics," said Beca. She jerked her thumb toward Stacie. "She bet me she could stump me. I'm kind of a music buff. But she nailed me with an older country song that had, like, zero intro anyway."

"What was it?"

"It was 'You Never Even Called Me By My Name,'" said Stacie.

"Oh my god, that's awesome! That's the one that has the verse that says 'I was drunk the day my mom got out of prison,' right?" asked Chloe.

"That's the one," said Stacie.

"How the hell do _both_ of you know that song?"

"My dad's a big country fan," said Chloe.

"Mine too," said Stacie.

Chloe turned to Beca. "Well, I'm glad you played."

"Because you struck me out?"

"And because you're cute." She winked at Beca.

Beca sat slackjawed. Stacie gently put her finger under Beca's chin to shut Beca's mouth. "Here's your jaw back, Beca."

"Cut it out, Stacie."

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" asked Chloe.

Beca asked her, "Like, a date?"

Stacie playfully smacked Beca in the head. "Yes, dumbass."

"Ow, Stacie!" exclaimed Beca.

"Yes," said Chloe. "A date."

"Yes."

"Cool," said Chloe.

They exchanged numbers and the two of them talked for a long time that night. Chloe insisted on picking up Beca's bar tab. Beca was all set to leave when she saw Stacie flirting with a guy from the other team. She sighed and checked the time on her phone.

"What's the matter?" Chloe asked.

"Stacie was my ride home, and she obviously isn't leaving anytime soon."

"Where do you live?"

Beca told Chloe that she and Stacie shared an apartment at a nearby complex.

"That's on my way. I can take you home if you want."

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"Okay. I'll text Stacie that I'm leaving and then we can go."

Beca typed a quick text to Stacie.

_B: Catching a ride with Chloe. See you later!_

_S: Get it, girl! Don't wait up for me. The Hunter has locked in on his target._

Beca rolled her eyes.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," said Beca. "Stacie is such a weirdo. She calls her...ya know...The Hunter. We've been friends for years, and it's always weirded me out."

"Crazy," said Chloe. "Okay, this one's mine." Chloe hit the remote and unlocked her car.

"Nice car," said Beca. She mentally cringed at her lack of ability to come up with something better to say.

"Thanks," said Chloe. "So, are you free Friday night?"

"Yup," said Beca. "I get home from work by 6."

"So, should I pick you up at 7?"

"Sure."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Ummm...surprise me, I guess?"

"What do you like to eat? Anything you don't eat?"

"I'm not picky. But I do like Mexican food best."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Beca directed Chloe to her building. "That's me. Thanks for the lift!"

"Anytime. See you Friday!"

* * *

It was Friday. Beca stood in front of her closet, unable to decide what to wear.

"Where is Chloe taking you?" asked Stacie.

Beca jumped. "Stacie! You scared me! I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry, short stuff. What are you up to?"

Beca rolled her eyes at Stacie's comment. "I don't know what to wear."

"Where is Chloe taking you?"

"She's surprising me."

"Did she tell you anything?"

"Just that it's casual."

"Okay," said Stacie. She flipped through a few things in Beca's closet. She grabbed a few things. "You can go for a look I'll call 'Super Casual Obvious Lesbian' or 'Naughty Badass Schoolgirl.'"

Stacie had put together two outfits. One was a black tank top, a purple flannel, black skinny jeans, and black converse shoes. The other was a black shirt and a red plaid skirt. Stacie had pulled out a pair of high heeled ankle boots for her to wear.

"Stace, I'm so bad at this. Which one would you wear on a first date?"

"I'd wear something lower cut and probably no underwear."

"Stacie, this is not helping. What would you wear if you were me?"

"The one with the skirt. It's sexier."

"Okay. Now, get out so I can change."

"Beca, I've seen you naked."

"Only because you never knock."

Stacie shrugged.

"Out!" exclaimed Beca.

"I'm going, I'm going."

* * *

Beca managed to have her outfit put together, her hair done, and her makeup done before Chloe arrived.

Chloe arrived right on time. She was wearing a blue dress covered in dots and a pair of wedge sandals. Beca was glad she'd decided on the ankle boots with heels. Chloe wasn't a lot taller than Beca, but the wedge sandals would have made her tower over Beca's 5' 2" frame.

"Hi," said Beca.

"Hi," said Chloe. "Are you ready?"

"Yup," said Beca. "Later, Stacie!"

"Have fun, kids!" called Stacie.

"Kids?" asked Chloe.

"Stacie thinks she's funny," said Beca.

Beca followed Chloe to her car. Chloe held the door open. "So chivalrous," said Beca, smirking.

"I asked you on the date, and I drove so..."

"I like it, Chloe. So, where are we going?"

"There's a Mexican place near my apartment that has a mariachi band on Friday nights. They're really good. You said you were a music buff, so I thought you might like that."

"You know, I've never heard a live mariachi band. Sounds like fun."

Chloe made the short drive to the restaurant. She sang along with the radio. Beca was amazed at how amazing Chloe's singing voice was.

"We're here!" Chloe exclaimed.

"Nice singing," said Beca.

"You don't mind?"

"With a voice like that? Of course not."

"Thanks," said Chloe, her cheeks turning just a little pink.

"Reservas para Beale, por favor."

"De esta manera, por favor."

Beca followed Chloe. "Chloe, I don't speak Spanish," she whispered.

"You don't have to," Chloe whispered back. "I just do it because I can. It's owned by a real Mexican family."

"Tu mesa está aquí, señoritas."

"Gracias," said Chloe.

Beca looked through the menu for a few minutes before talking to Chloe.

"It all looks good. Any suggestions?"

Chloe pointed to a few things on the menu. "I usually get one of those, but everything is good."

Beca nodded. A waitress came by to take their orders. Chloe ordered in Spanish, and Beca settled for pointing to the menu. Just after the waitress took their menus, the mariachi band came by.

"¿Alguna solicitud de canción?" asked a man holding a violin.

"¿Puedes por favor jugar al niño perdido?" asked Chloe.

"Si, si, porsupuesto."

"You know mariachi songs?" asked Beca.

"Totes," said Chloe. "This one's my favorite. They have two trumpets here, so that's what I always request when there are two trumpets."

"You are a woman of many surprising talents," said Beca.

Chloe shrugged.

The band began to play, and soon a man with a trumpet from across the restaurant played a solo. It was immediately followed by a trumpet solo by a man standing with the rest of the group. This "dialogue" between trumpeters continued at different spots in the song, the one trumpeter getting progressively closer as the song continued. By the end of the song, both trumpeters were with the main band.

"The song title means 'the lost boy' and the trumpets are simulating a father and son. The son gets closer to the father throughout the song until he's with the main band."

"How do you know this?" asked Beca.

"My aunt is from Mexico. She used to take care of me when my parents were at work when I was little. She taught me how to speak Spanish and all sorts of stuff. One of the restaurant owners is her cousin."

"So, _that's_ why everyone knows you here."

"Yup."

"And, I'm guessing you grew up playing softball?"

"Sure did. I also played soccer and basketball."

"I never played sports. Well, I played indoor soccer when I was five, but it didn't go well. I got bored halfway through the game and sat down on the floor while the action was on the other side of the gym."

"That's adorable."

"It's one of my dad's favorite stories to tell. Anyway, he didn't sign me up after that, and I didn't mind."

"So, what did you do as a kid?"

"Not much, actually. My parents divorced when I was in first grade. My mom didn't have much money after food and bills, so I didn't really do anything after school. There weren't a lot of kids my age in the neighborhood either. I listened to a lot of music, though. I guess that's why I thought I could win the bet against Stacie."

"Sorry you had to go through that."

"I don't really remember much of it. I remember they fought a lot, and then my dad moved out. I spent a lot of weekends in his apartment. There weren't _any_ kids there. And I hated having to go to his place every other weekend. We get along, and always have, but I hated going back and forth. I was the first of my friends to have their parents split, and they didn't understand that I wasn't available during dad weekends."

"I guess not."

"It's fine, though. Dad always tried to make weekends with him fun. He'd take me out to eat, we'd rent a video, stuff like that."

Dinner arrived at that point. Beca was amazed at how good the food tasted.

"Like it?" asked Chloe after a while.

"Oh my god, yes," said Beca. "This is amazing."

"Glad you like it," said Chloe.

A thought struck Beca. "Chloe, you said you live near here?"

"Yup, my apartment is a block away. I usually walk here."

"We passed the softball field on the way here from my apartment," said Beca. "You went out of your way to take me home that night?"

"Yes," said Chloe, quietly, her cheeks red.

"Why?"

"Well, I wasn't going to leave you stranded."

"I could have gotten home. Uber, Lyft, cab ride, whatever."

"I'm sure," said Chloe. "And I wanted to spend a little more time with you, even if it was just a short car ride."

"Thanks," said Beca. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," said Chloe. Chloe cleared her throat. "Ummm...there's something else I wanted to do."

"What's that?"

"This." Chloe put her hand on Beca's cheek and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

Beca kissed back, sighing. She chuckled when they broke apart.

"What's so funny?" asked Chloe.

"Just thinking," said Beca. "I'm so glad I lost that bet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I apologize if my Spanish is wrong. I used Google translate.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs used:
> 
> Ace of Base – The Sign  
> Blackstreet, Dr. Dre, Queen Pen – No Diggity  
> Hank Williams Jr. - Family Tradition  
> Jimmy Buffett – The Asshole Song (The I-95 Song)  
> David Allan Coe – You Never Even Called Me By My Name
> 
> Thank you to [22_Ti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/22_Ti) for the song ideas.


End file.
